I think I open Tumblr like once a year or so.
Because I can.
Because for the longest time it was all I had.
But I found myself, my purpose, and my person. I didn’t have time or even the urge for Tumblr anymore.
I got better. I got happier. I healed.
Now I’m getting married.
I’m so excited. I really am.
But my sense of self worth is in the dumpster. My body dysmorphia is WHACK. I want to be the most beautiful bride. I want to look like a goddamn Disney Princess when I walk down that aisle.
And so I feel like I’m on a precipice right now. On one side is my mental health and the relationship that I have grown to have with food. On the other side is the way I used to be.
I used to think taking that step would be hard.
But the thing is—the horrible, dirty secret is—that even from the beginning I wanted this.
It’s horrid and shameful and I understand that I am the problem, but way back in the day I was one of those wannarexics.
I’m sure the kids are calling it something different nowadays, but that was the name for it back when I crawled through those old forums with the black background and the white text.
I knew what I was getting into back then and I know what it would mean if I were to do it again now.
